I/Me/My and The Donald
My first political mentor was a neighbor whose daughter had been my babysitter. He was fairly unassuming for a politician — a teacher, and a life-long local volunteer for everything from the Elks to Little League. He’s someone that Donald Trump wouldn’t like, because he was in public service instead of “earning a lot — I mean, a lot, of money” in the private sector. His name was John Lescoe, and he was a fabulous State Representative and Mayor.
What made Mr. Lescoe so good was that his focus on others. He sought funding for other people’s organizations, projects, and needs. He was a champion of youth activities and senior housing. He cared about people. His work made my hometown more vibrant and people’s lives better.
What is so different about politics in 2016, as opposed to 1996, is that this whole narrative of making people’s lives better has changed. We’re stuck with a presidential nominee who is about tearing people down instead of building up — or, at least building up anyone but himself.
This year’s presidential race has been unusual for many reasons, but one of the biggest is the level to which the Republican nominee self-promotes. I mean, we knew he was like this going in, but even with the “anchoring effect” of Trump Tower, Trump Steaks, and The Apprentice, it’s still shocking how much this man loves himself.
The biggest lesson Mr. Lescoe taught, which was right out of his focus on others, was that politics isn’t about “me.” He hated listening to other politicians say “I” did this and “I” did that, and send “me” back to the State House. One of his chief ways of assessing someone’s character, it seemed, was whether that person could forget about himself or herself enough to do some good for others.
So when it comes to Trump, I think Mr. Lescoe wouldn’t be impressed. And we shouldn’t be, either. This race isn’t about Trump or Clinton, it’s about us as Americans. What’s the plan for our future? How will these individuals get us there, collectively?
I don’t care if Trump actually “made a lot, I mean a ton” of money, or if “nobody negotiates better — nobody.” If it’s a bad deal, or a deal that only Trump benefits from, he can keep that money and those negotiating skills. He’ll negotiate us right out of the United States. We’ll be Trump States before you know it.
The truth is, it wasn’t always this way. I’m not just talking about Mr. Lescoe here. There was a culture of focusing on others and a culture of service in our country as recently as the 1990s. That culture wasn’t restricted to one party or one class, either. It was a shared, if not universal, belief that “I” am not the most important part of the picture.
I remember reading something President Bush (the first) said about his mother. She raised him to not talk about how he did in a game, competition, or activity. She wanted him to talk about how the team did, or how what he did benefited someone. Bush remembered that lesson during his presidency, and talked about the progress we made together, as a nation and who helped make it happen. In short, Bush was a team-oriented leader who brought people together. Were the late 80’s and early 90’s the best of times? Not really, but we had our convictions, and we knew the president was a good man, even if we disagreed with him. In short, we endured, and we kept our nation’s soul intact.
Now, we’re asked to make a different bargain. If we elect Trump, will we escape with either our convictions, or with the knowledge that he is a good man? I don’t think so. Trump has made it clear that he believes in a baser level of living than that.
So what do we do as a country? We say “not here.” We say “not here,” not just to the hateful things that Trump says about large groups of Americans, we say “not here” to his entire style of being. We don’t want people who are so enamored with themselves to be running our country. We don’t want a leader whose platform is his own self-promotion. For if we do, what we’ll really be saying is that we don’t deserve better than that. That we’re not worth a president who focuses on us, on the others in this country.
Mr. Lescoe didn’t believe that for one second — and neither should we.
